But that's not why my brain is fried. Last night i headed to KaterHolzig to watch a solo stage performance inspired by Alice in Wonderland. I knew it was going to be a tough call to follow the German, but i figured it'd be a good opportunity to practice, maybe learn a bit. I gotta say, watching theater in a nightclub where the bar is 10 feet from the seating and you can smoke inside is ridiculously fabulous. It felt like a cabaret. And the show was great, even though i started to lose track of the dialog toward the end. The actress used a bunch of media tricks to keep things interesting. Perhaps it's been done before, but seeing as i've seen fuck all stage shows that weren't musicals it was new to me and pretty impressive. Her Cheshire Cat was a fucking revelation, and hilarious.
Inevitably, i ended up wandering around the multiple different rooms that make up the spectacular playground that that nightclub is and got home exhausted and happy over 12 hours later. Ouch. I chatted to a few more Germans and started to understand a bit more the love/hate relationship they have with techno tourists. They need the tourists to finance the clubs, but sometimes the tourists aren't techno tourists at all - just sightseers who want to cross "Berlin nightlife" off their backpacker's bucket list. I've run across a bunch of them - Europeans, Canadians and Australians who ask everyone for drugs, charge around being obnoxious drunks and then leave by 5am once they tire of their little walk on the wild side. Unsurprisingly the vibe is much better in that morning stretch, until the tourists who actually did manage to score drugs roll up from the other nightclubs. To be honest it doesn't bother me too much, because there are also tourists like me who know the club and love the music and are there deliberately. And there are locals. And all of them - even the ignorant sightseers - end up falling under the spell to some degree. One hyperactive girl from Amsterdam said to me last night "i can't believe this place, it's so special, like being in a dream". Couldn't have said it better. Still, i can get why it bothers the locals - they don't want to become Mallorca or Cancún. It must be a really tough task trying to weed out people at the door. I swing it by showing up outside of peak time, going sober and speaking German. There's my pro tip for the day if you ever want to come clubbing here.
I slept almost 6 hours when i got home, but i'm still feeling totally out of it. I haven't even really had the mindspace to register the fact that i got a fucking job offer - it came about an hour before i left last night. It's with the company from the interview last week, the one i felt a little iffy about. I think i'm going to follow my own advice and turn it down. I feel a weird sense of panic turning down a job, like here is someone offering you a gift and you slap them in the face? Won't that ruin your reputation forever? But i know i need to change my emotions on that - it's not a gift, it's a contract proposal. I am under no obligation to accept. And it's no insult if i refuse. This warped sense of politeness or loyalty or whatever is something i've let dictate a lot of my professional decisions in the past - not quitting until i've worked somewhere at least 12 months "because i owe them that much" or pulling unpaid overtime "because it's the right thing to do" or not doing the book-vacation-then-quit move because i feel it's unethical... All that is unnecessary pressure i put on myself and i have to learn to not do it. It might start by turning down a perfectly reasonable job offer from a perfectly nice person at a perfectly nice company just because the team is structured a little differently than i'd like. Not the end of the world, right?
But fuck worrying about that now. Brain. Fried. Going to watch Hackers, or something equally awesome and unchallenging.